


The Flower Game

by Souja



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Character Death, I mean really that's all this is, It's a lot worse when you take into account that they're middle schoolers heheh, Lots of character death, slapping a big ol' AU tag on it, students added as they 'appear', whoops spoiler alert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souja/pseuds/Souja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korosensei thinks flowers are beautiful</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Flower Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Assclass Chat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Assclass+Chat).



 

**Prologue** **:** _**A Time For Everything** _

_**\--** _

_everyone is compared to flowers is this series gray_

\--

Koro flipped through the last pages of the odd shounen manga he'd borrowed from Yuzuki-san and frowned. There were no happy endings and damn it all, it chaffed at him horribly how a story that started so happy could end in so much heartbreak. He'd stayed up extra late to get through the series in its entirety, to see how the young group fared on their final journey.

Three of their closest friends permanently mutilated, the now broken main character dying at the threshold of safety, the bad guy--turned good in an awkward twist of fate-- using the last of his strength in an effort to transport the bloodied and broken back to their own dimension.

It'd failed, of course, and who knew what strange world those poor characters were in. The manga had ended on a black page with a single “- _ah.”_ in white. No closure, no consolation, a tangled myriad of split ends.

What's worse, it made _sense_. Why have them live out happily if you could murder them all in cold blood? 

It was a simple way to tie loose ends, one that might have been more appreciated a lifetime ago. 

But for now he stretched and placed the manga on his makeshift shelf. The whispers of light peeked in through open blinds and Koro shielded his eyes with a free tentacle. Was it morning time already? He'd stayed up late, yes, but he'd only just started reading at 10...

Bright red numbers blinked back at him and Koro almost blushed. He dashed off the bed, knocking back a line of candles as he moved clumsily to attention.

Already the sun had risen and he needed to stop by both Kyoto and Germany before the day reached its prime. After all, his students had been patiently waiting and gods knew he couldn't stall any longer; you only graduated once after all.

(well, ideally)

The nice ladies preparing the chrysanthemum promised they'd be ready in time, so likely they were already busying about wrapping them and making innuendos towards flustered younger couples. The sweet peas and other flowers were courtesy of the nice old man from the nursery as a way of breaking even in thanks. As far as he was concerned, all debts between them were long paid. This was just a gift from an old (ha) friend.

Koro straightened his hat, dusted his attire and set off on his mourning routine. His first stop was Sweden for a light breakfast, then he'd likely dash back to Italy for a nice gelato if he had the time. Maybe he'd pop by London and get some fish? Hm... maybe... The day was young, full of promise. 

He was out of his home in seconds, out of the prefecture in minutes. The people below him passed by in blissful ignorance of his presence. He was tempted to fly a little lower-- observe them a bit closer. Likely they wouldn't even notice. It wouldn't be the first time he'd hovered just above low roofs and no one had bothered looking up. But, ah, that would be unforgivably irresponsible on his part, and already he was an hour behind schedule.

Koro picked up his speed, easily breaking the mach 4 barrier as he set course to Oregrund.

 

\--

 

He arrived at their meeting place a little after noon. The students, of course, were in their places and awaited his arrival. The flowers they'd transplanted to the secret pond earlier in the year had taken root and multiplied; the whole area was now littered in sunflowers. Koro flustered, dusting off stowaways of sand and standing up to his full height. He blew a raspberry and drew a deep breath, steeling himself before them.

“You've all grown so much this year,” he began, and his voice quivered only a little this time. “Sensei is so, so proud of you.”

Koro sniffled and rubbed a tentacle over his head to remove the excess mucus. “With that said, Sensei would like for you to partake in something very, very special.” Koro retrieved the clear casket of white chrysanthemum and held them close. He moved deliberately to where Isogai lay and began reciting the words he'd toiled over for the last month.

“There are traditions,” he began, “that honour the passage of time. That signify the growth of an individual.. _.”_

 _And in goes a tentacle joke to cover up his sobs_. 

“Yuuma-kun,” Koro called, “this year has seen you become a great leader amongst your peers. If you'd continue to hone these skills there's no doubt you'd accomplish great things. Sensei is very proud of you.” and with the ending of the statement a white petaled chrysanthemum was retrieved from the bundle and deposited into the ground alongside dazzling yellow daffodils. “May you continue to grow, Yuuma-kun.”

He wandered over to Kataoka and continued with the same proud sobriety, “You learned an important lesson in how to interact with your peers as equals. The skills you've worked so hard on should no doubt continue to strengthen.” And the ivory chrysanthemum stood tall beside a beautiful iris. “May you continue to grow, Megu-san.”

“For all you have done for the class this year, I thank you.” The sensei bowed to his students and the breeze blew soft kisses on his cheeks while flowers danced like playful children and the image engraved itself on his heart. The minute of bowing passed in silence until the sensei straightened up, readjusted his tie, and beamed before the remaining students. They'd earned this, his mind chided, and it wouldn't do to go on crying.

And so the ceremony continued unhindered.

Koro clapped two tentacles together, a single sensei applause, “Class E, these are your student leaders.”

“Karma-kun...” the octopus started, chrysanthemum and cress in hand. The sun beat down in merciful rays as it arched its way through the sky.

 

\--

 

The day sauntered by in a flurry of octopus jokes and memories, and by the end it became apparent to him that the knot of nostalgia welling up in his heart would be staying long term. It was nice, though. In a way. It meant he would remember them in the sun, the breeze, the smell of the river, of the trees. In the animals that darted around in shy curiosity and the bugs that scuttled about in serene indifference. The sun lingered tiredly on the belt of the horizon until the twilight signaled for the moon to dance into place.

He recalled Fuwa once saying there was likely a moon goddess somewhere, reeling and raving for his head, and let out a thunderous laugh. He laughed once more at lingering thoughts -memories- before telling the class another useless fact about tentacles.

Ah, no, tentacles weren't useless. A burden, yes, but not useless.

Dark fell quickly, and Koro remained unsure if it was the strangling knot in his chest or the airstrike vehicles making stealth circles in his peripheral vision confirmed his fate. Technicalities and adventures aside, it was plain to see that they of Class E had failed the assassination (in the eyes of the government at least. In his eyes they're phenomenal, they always will be, and they'd far surpassed _any_ expectations). So flowers or no, someone was going to blow up.

_Cold feet, eh Koro-sensei?_

And again the reasons for his suicide came flashing to his mind. Something about the betterment of human life. Something about shallow safety so they could go along killing each other by their own terms. Something about _fuck you,_ _government_ _._

Gods, was it bad that they seemed less substantial than they had a month ago at the Defence meeting? So what if the entire Kanagawa district suffered? He'd already lost so much. It would kill them to let him stay a little longer, but was that really even that bad a trade if it meant a little more time with his tiny class of twenty-six?

Did he even really care what they thought? 

_Come on sensei, get a move on!_

_We don't have all day._

The flowers danced as he stood from where he'd laid. A minute passed, then another until finally something deep within him that affirmed that yes, this is the way this would be done. The way it _had_ to be done. With a whimper, deep in space, far away from the people he'd grown to love.

The last glance at his students graves breaks him, and it's almost soothing the way his tears come pouring like waterfalls to wet the dirt that blanketed them.

Koro takes deep, gasping breaths, composing himself for one last tearful roll call as he begins to spiral upwards at mach 1 and counting.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> :3


End file.
